A Broken Wand
by Erythraeus Ursa
Summary: Harry Potter travels back in time to destroy the horcruxes before Voldemort can regain his corporeal body.
1. Prologue

A small breeze gently but steadily playing with his beard, Albus Dumbledore stared at a bare patch of ground ten feet in front of him. His lavender and maroon robes gently moving, he paced slowly around this spot, his normally twinkling eyes piercing the air in front of him. His brow was furrowed in concentration, and the wand held loosely in his right hand was near constantly moving, swishing and swirling as the headmaster muttered incantation after incantation. For the past four hours, ever since he felt the slow buildup of magical energy in the Hogwarts courtyard, he had been casting more and more complex diagnostic spells to determine what was happening. When he couldn't, he began creating powerful wards around the space that the energy emanated from.

Now, though, Dumbledore began to slow his walk. The magical breeze that had been slowly growing the power built had died. Chuckling to himself, Dumbledore finally admitted that he was completely stumped. He let his wand hand slowly drop to his side, just now noticing the exhaustion that came from four hours of constant high level magic use. The power within his well warded circle was no longer growing, though it had begun to throw off visible light. Arcs of green and yellow, blue and purple and red magic crackled intensely, colliding into each other as they swirled around in a circle three feet wide and seven feet high. Dumbledore raised his left hand towards the energy, feeling happier than he had in some time. There was some of the phoenix's song in the sounds that slowly began to come into hearing, as if from a great distance. The strangeness, the absolute insanity of what was happening in front of him was one of the things he loved about magic. The sound swelled, and he heard the roars of lions and the hissing of snakes harmonizing, which surprised him as much as anything else.

In a flash of fire just above his head, a familiar sight soared onto his shoulder. Fawkes looked at him, head cocked to the side, them began to trill along with the phoenix song in front of him. Laughing in delight, Albus turned back to the magical energy, which had seemingly become solid in the time he had taken to look at his familiar.

In a great burst of emerald green and red, the energy burst through the wards he had set around, pushing Albus and Fawkes back a few paces. Bringing his wand up again, he looked to see what the magic had wrought.

Standing in the middle of swiftly diminishing arcs of energy was a young man in his late twenties, who was staring at the headmaster. His dirty, torn, and scorched robes were nearly falling off his athletic frame. Disheveled black hair fell to just above his collar, nearly obscuring his face like a filthy curtain. Peeking through were a pair of the greenest eyes he had ever seen, and tears seemed to fall unnoticed as they observed the headmaster in front of him.

Laughing happily for reasons he had no way to fathom, the old man said the first thing to come to mind. "Would you care for a lemon drop?"

This seemed to shake the man from his silent reverie. Clearing his throat, he simply said, "Yes please," before dropping to the ground in a faint.

Dumbledore tried to bring down the wards he had erected, before he realized that the surge of energy from the man's arrival had somehow shorted them all. Rushing forward, he started casting diagnostic spells on the prone body as Fawkes sang a calming song from his shoulder. The third he tried showed that all the man suffered from was acute physical and magical exhaustion. Letting out a breathe he hadn't realized he had been holding, he unconsciously brushed the dirty locks from the young man's face in a grandfatherly gesture. Looking into the young man's strangely familiar face, he saw something as strange as any other strange thing that had happened that day. On the young man's forehead was a faded scar in the shape of a jagged lightning bolt.

Looking at the phoenix on his shoulder, Albus Dumbledore smiled. "Oh, Fawkes, I do love a mystery."

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A/N This is my first attempt at writing a fanfic, so aat advice and criticism is welcome. Thank you for reading.


	2. Legilimency and the Hallows

Looking at the cracked ground in front of him, Harry Potter weaved slowly through the scattered boulders that were in his way. The sky was a brilliant shade of blue, clouds drifted across the sky, and everything was deathly quiet. Trying to keep hold of the peace he had felt in that white, pristine train station, Harry held his original wand in his left hand, and the elder wand in his right.

There was something wrong with this quiet.

Keeping the familiar sight of the castle to his left, Harry walked past the lake where he had rescued Ron during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Looking at the water, he realized how still the lake had become, the only movement provided by the steady breeze that blew in from the north. Uneasy, Harry continued walking towards the front entrance of Hogwarts.

As he walked past a bend in the path, he saw the first body. Dressed in robes seemingly made of a starless sky at midnight, the still figure looked like a crumpled doll. Moving forward with both wands raised, Harry vanished his mask, and let out a breath of relief when he realized he didn't know the man beneath it. His features were fixed in an expression of pure pain. He was bending over to see if the man still had his wand on him when he caught sight of bushy brown hair.

Letting out a horrified gasp, Harry ran forward, collapsing to his knees when he saw her face. She was staring at the azure sky above with unseeing eyes, the look of disbelief and torture that she had died with stuck on her face. Her still form started to waver in Harry's vision, and that was when he realized he was crying. Suddenly, huge sobs of guilt and pain wrenched their way through his chest. Holding the cool body close to his, Harry screamed into her hair, cursing the world with the sound of his agony. He felt his body shaking, as though someone had a death grip on his shoulder.

"Harry." A voice called as the shaking grew rougher. "Harry. Harry!"

Sitting up straight, Harry looked through his tears at the face of his beloved headmaster sitting in front of him, and he couldn't help grabbing the man into a fierce hug. Startled at first, Dumbledore soon responded by hugging the young man just as fiercely, letting him release the gasping sobs into his aged shoulder.

In a flash of fire Fawkes came into the room, and began to sing Harry's anguish away. Harry realized that he had made a soggy spot on the shoulder of Dumbledore's robes, and he pulled away embarrassedly.

"Sorry about the robes, sir," he said when he got his voice under control. Fawkes let out a trill that sounded remarkably like a laugh while Dumbledore shook his head, absent mindedly casting a drying charm.

"No problem. My shoulder was in need of a bath anyway." His eyes twinkled as he looked at the mysterious young man in front of him, and he smiled as he stood up. "At least one mystery has been solved, though it leaves the door open for many more. You are Harry Potter, are you not?"

Harry's head snapped up, before he barked a laugh and shook his head in wonder. He had decided to keep everything from Dumbledore until he could get the man to trust him, even starting his journey in Grimmauld Place with the hopes that he would end up there, and when he gets to the past he appears right in front of him. Looking into the inquisitive blue eyes, Harry simply nodded an affirmative. Seeing Dumbledore's smile widen, he asked him, "Do you think I could have that lemon drop before we start with the interview?"

"Oh, you really wanted one?" Dumbledore asked happily. "I thought you were being polite. As often as I offer sweets, I very rarely have someone take one." Turning around, he headed towards the desk in the middle of the room. Harry finally realized where he was when he saw the various instruments on shelves and tables around the room, as well as the snoozing portraits of former headmasters on the walls. Looking at them, he realized that most of them would barely open their eyes, and when they realized he was looking back at them, would close their eyes quickly and resume their snoring enthusiastically. Fawkes was on his customary perch where he had flashed to when Harry woke up.

Dumbledore had returned from his desk with a small tin full of the bright yellow sweets. Grabbing one for himself, he extended the tin to Harry. Harry took one of the lemon drops and stuck it on his tongue, puckering his mouth from the quick burst of sour that exploded there.

"Sir, why are we in your office?" As the question popped out of his mouth, some of the portraits gave up the pretenses of sleep completely. A few even leaned forward in their chairs, eager for the conversation to start. Harry thought that it must be lonely and boring to be a portrait, but at least these portraits got to listen in on Dumbledore's meetings.

"Well, it being the last month of summer break, all of the students and staff are currently on vacation. It is only myself and one other who are currently residing at Hogwarts, so I thought I'd keep an eye on you as I dealt with paperwork." The headmaster's eyes crinkled as he said, "Let us play a game of questions, shall we. I'd like to know how and why you came to be here, when an eleven-year-old Harry Potter who just found out he is a wizard a few days ago is currently in Surrey."

He smiled as though a personal joke had just been mentioned, though his eyes had such an intense look of curiosity that Harry knew he would try Legilimency soon. Sure enough, Harry felt a slight touch against his outermost Occlumency barrier, and had a brief internal struggle before deciding to completely lay down his defenses and allow Dumbledore complete access. He wanted his old Headmaster to trust him, and this was the simplest way.

"Oh, you're an Occlumens! I must congratulate you for achieving that. Not many have the patience or the skill necessary for mind magic." Dumbledore's Legilimency probe wavered just on the edges of the sunlit forest that was Harry's mind before he nodded to himself and sent it forward.

Not being an extremely patient person, Harry decided it would be best to just send a highlight reel of his first seven years in the magical world Dumbledore's way. He had already stored the memories together in a small clearing twenty feet into his forest mindscape as a large gathering of wildflowers, many of which were actually poisonous in the real world. It had helped him deal with the pain and weight these memories carried to have them all in one place within his mind.

Dumbledore had stopped with his hand on the trunk of a mighty oak, which contained all of his memories of his time spent in Muggle Paris. Taking his hand, Harry led him to the clearing, and began gathering the wildflowers in his hand to hand over to Dumbledore.

Memories of his confrontation with Quirrellmort, of the Chamber of Secrets, of Voldemort's return, and so many more rushed into Dumbledore's mind as he was given handfuls of flowers and soaking up the information within. The normally well-ordered little clearing was thrown into chaos as he began uprooting more and more memories for Dumbledore to see.

It felt almost freeing to finally be sharing everything with another, and Harry began moved the memories faster and faster towards the old man, before the contact suddenly collapsed and Dumbledore's Legilimency probe left his mind.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw Dumbledore wearing a look of anguish and sorrow he had never seen on his face sit heavily in a well cushioned armchair he conjured as he fell backwards.

"My boy," he said, his voice cracking. "My dear, dear boy." His bright blue eyes shimmered with tears that began to fall unheeded down his cracked, weary face. Harry, suddenly afraid that he had pushed his memories at too great a speed, looked at Dumbledore worriedly. Fawkes, feeling that he was again needed, began singing out. At the sound, Dumbledore crumpled into himself, shaking with sobs that he tried mightily to contain.

Harry looked at the man that he still considered the strongest person he had ever met, and had no clue what to do. Fawkes indignantly chirped at him, interrupting the flow of his song of solace, Harry realized what the phoenix wanted from him, and swung his legs off his bed. Wincing from the pain in his muscles, he almost collapsed onto the crying figure but caught himself on the arm of the chair. Before Dumbledore could react, Harry once again wrapped him in a fierce hug. Holding on to the headmaster as he sobbed, Harry felt awkward, but also touched that what he had been through affected the headmaster this much.

Dumbledore pulled himself together with a long shiver, before once again returning Harry's embrace with a fierce one of his own. They stayed like that for an unnumbered amount of minutes before Harry's legs began to shake from exhaustion. He released Dumbledore and fell back on his cot.

Dumbledore took his glasses off his face and began wiping them with his beard. His aged face looked weary and sad, but his eyes were steady as they stared at Harry. Replacing his glasses on his crooked nose, he said, "You are, my boy, a marvel. A marvel indeed."

Harry blushed and looked down at his knees. He noticed, for the first time, that he was not wearing the robes he had traveled back in time in. These robes were a rich emerald green, with silver and gold tracing the sleeves and hem. They felt like a strange mixture of silk and warm water on his skin, and they fit as if made for him.

"Sir, whose robes are these?"

"Those robes were mine, though I am glad to give them to you." He paused, gathering himself. "After all that you've been through, and how much of it was my fault, it is the least and only the first way that I will repay you."

Harry shook his head, not sure what to say to that. He had tried to bring a chest full of money and useful items with him, but it was ripped out of his arms by the swirling colors the ritual created. He had barely held on to the elder wand and his old invisibility cloak in the mad rush of color and sound that brought him back to the past. He patted at the pockets of the comfortable robes, but found neither wand nor cloak.

"Sir, do you have my wand and my invisibility cloak. I thought I held onto them all the way through, though by the end I was hallucinating a bit."

He looked up to see the headmaster twirling an intricately carved elder wood wand in either hand, each the twin of the other. His eyes, now puffy and red, were serious as he held up the wand in his left hand. "I don't know how you won this wand, but I must warn you to be careful with it, as well as of it. The power contained within this old wood is destructive, as you well know. It is also addictive. Take care that it does not overcome you." Suddenly he smiled, and proffered the same wand towards Harry. "From what I have seen, however, there seems to be little for me to fear."

Harry extended his own hand and closed his fingers around the cool wood. His old phoenix feather wand had always felt pleasantly warm in his hand, but the elder wand never felt warmer than a crisp autumn afternoon.

"I'll be careful, sir."

"Good. As for that wonderful cloak of yours, it is currently folded up in my closet along with its counterpart. I'm afraid that I felt I had to get to know you before I could trust such powerful magical items in your keeping."

Nodding that he understood, Harry leaned back as a sudden though hit him. "Sir, with two of the three Hallows duplicated, what exactly do you think that means? Can you be master of death with three, or will you now need five?"

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly and his face broke into a smile as he cheerfully replied, "Not a clue, my boy."


	3. His Name is Wulfric

A knock on the office door pulled both men out of their thoughts. Gesturing for them to stand, Dumbledore winked at Harry, though with his eyes looking red and puffy it had little of its usual charm.

"Just a moment," said Dumbledore. He pulled out his wand and rapped Harry a little hard on top of his head and on both shoulders. Feeling as though thousands of ants were walking down his body, Harry reached up to touch his face. Under his fingers, he felt nothing change, but Phineaus Nigellus's snearing laughter coming from above his head told him that something was different. While Dumbledore vanished the cot and his armchair, Harry bent over one of the more well-polished silver instruments on the table to see his reflection. Staring back at him was someone who looked remarkably similar to what Harry imagined Dumbledore must have looked like when he was in his twenties. His hair had become auburn and had straightened itself, his nose was longer and slightly crooked, and as he watch a reddish-gold goatee began sprouting around his lips and chin. The only thing that was still recognizably Harry were his emerald green eyes. Looking down, Harry saw that his robes had changed colors to lime green and chartreuse in alternating swooshes and splatters, and that Harry now seemed about a foot farther from the floor than before.

Unsure whether he should complain about the robes or just start asking questions, he opened his mouth just as Dumbledore said, "Enter." Remembering why Dumbledore had changed his appearance, Harry turned to the door just as it was opening.

Bending down to get through the doorframe was the largest ma that Harry had ever seen , though he knew that he wasn't all human. Wearing a thick brown overcoat with hundreds of pockets, the hairy bearded man's eyebrows shot up when he saw someone in the room other than Dumbledore.

"Sorry, headmaster. I did'n know ya had a guest. I'll jus' come by later," he said, turning to go back through the door.

"Don't worry, Hagrid. This isn't anything official. Please, let me introduce you to," Dumbledore looked to Harry, and he gave him a great, big wink before continuing, "Wulfric Dumbledore, my great-grandson. Wulfric, this is Rubeus Hagrid, our groundskeeper." Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling madly, and with the puffiness still surrounding them, he looked quite insane.

Hagrid looked at Harry, his eyes widening before his mouth cracked into a huge grin. "Good ta' meet ya. Ye can call me Hagrid.:

Harry was shocked that Dumbledore not only made him look like a younger version of him, but that he told Hagrid he was Dumbledore's great-grandson. That they were family. Stretching his hand out to Hagrid, he managed to swallow the lump in his throat at the feeling of acceptance. "It's good to meet you, too. You may call me Wulfric."

Smiling broadly, Dumbledore conjured a chair large enough for Hagrid to sit in comfortably. Waving them both to sit, Dumbledore turned slightly to the side before saying, "Lokky."

With a pop, a small house elf appeared next to Dumbledore's desk. Its large eyes and bulbous head were tilted slightly to the side, and the small toga like garment with a Hogwarts crest over his heart was immaculate.

"Yes, Headmaster Dumblydor, sir?" the small elf asked.

"Would you be so kind as to get us some tea and biscuits, Lokky?"

Smiling brightly, the house elf nodded enthusiastically before popping away.

"Lokky is going to be a wonderful leader of the Hogwarts house elves, don't you think?" Dumbledore looked fondly at the spot where the house elf disappeared. Turning back to look at the two men in his office, he noticed that Hagrid was trying to subtly stare at Harry, but was failing miserably at the subtlety aspect. Harry, though, was still accustomed to receiving such stares, and was busily looking at his own reflection in a small golden square that intermittently puffed out multi-colored smoke.

"So, Hagrid, what brings you to my office today? A new species found in the forbidden forest? Grindylows and merpeople at war again? The centaurs wanting to renogtiate land rights?"

Hagrid quit staring at Harry, turning back to Dumbledore. "Sir, this is 'bout that problem you wanted me ta' think on." He looked at Harry again, before continuing. "Do ye wan' me to say now?"

Dumbledore smiled at Hagrid, then said, "Wulfric has my complete confidence. Go ahead, Hagrid."

Before Hagrid could begin to give his report, another small pop announced Lokky's re-entrance bearing a large tea tray. The blue china teapot and tea cups had running griffins on the sides, chasing each other round and round joyously. There were enough sones and biscuits on the tray to feed the entire Weasley clan, including Ron. Dumbledore waved his wand over his desk, which enlarged slightly and cleared itself off so the elf could set down the massive tray.

"Thank you, Lokky," Harry said. Lokky looked overjoyed when both Dumbledore and Hagrid echoed with their own thanks.

"You's welcome, sirs," the elf said happily before popping out of the office again.

"Ah, mango marmalade. The house elves always know how to make every dish just a little more fun. Now, let's dig in first before you give your report, Hagrid." With that, the Headmaster began glopping large spoonfuls of the marmalade onto a ginger nut biscuit. Quickly following suit, Harry grabbed a still steaming scone while Hagrid poured his tea. The three didn't talk while they ate, other than occasionally asking for something to be passed back and forth.

Harry impressed both Hagrid and Dumbledore with the amount of food that he ate. He didn't know why exactly, but as soon as he took his first bite, he realized he was hungrier that he ever had been when living in the cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive. By the time he was full he had drank ten cups of tea, ate twelve scones and two pieces of toast laden heavily with the mango marmalade.

Throughout the meal, Dumbledore's eyes would go from as happy as could be to as horribly depressed as could be. Every time he did so, it was when he was looking at the marvelous young man sitting beside him. He couldn't process all of the memories he had received; there were far too many, and he hadn't had the time to deal with them yet. But he knew that the boy had been through far, far too much already, yet he still was a happy and conscientious young man. When his thoughts drifted too far into the depressing, Fawkes would give a little chirrup from his perch. Dumbledore would just nod at the bird before sipping on his tea or munching on a biscuit.

Hagrid had never heard Fawkes be so vocal, and he split his time between watching Harry shovel another bite into his mouth and staring in wonder at the red plumed phoenix.

Finally the meal was through, and as Lokky reappeared to take away the tea tray, Hagrid began. "When ye' firs' asked me to help ye' guard the stone I had no clue what I should do. I tried to get a dragon, but it's agin' the law. Buckbeak would do it, but he'd be right miserable staying inside for so long." Hagrid's face grew long as he imagined his hippogriff friend cooped up indoors. Fawkes nodded his head and warbled, which made Hagrid grin widely before he continued. "Tha's when I remembered an old friend in Greece that has a job raising Cerberi for guard duty. He said we could rent a Cerberus named Fluffy for jus' 145 galleons a year. Whaddya say, Headmaster?"

Hagrid's excitement was palpable and his grin had stretched even wider, until it looked ready to split his face in two. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily, and the redness and puffiness from his earlier tears had mostly gone. He looked at Harry and nodded, saying. "I think a guard Cerberus would be a wonderful addition to the defense of the stone. Do you agree, Wulfric?"

Harry looked over at Hagrid, who was looking back at him with pleading eyes. Deciding he couldn't keep his oldest friend in suspense, he nodded, saying, "I agree. When will we be able to procure the Cerberus?"

Hagrid looked overjoyed as he spluttered something about a "trip to Greece" and "week or two" before running out of the office saying he needed to pack.

Harry looked over at Dumbledore, who was leaning back in the chair he had conjured earlier and staring at Harry. "I have a million and one questions my boy, but most of those will probably be answered by the memories you so graciously provided me. I suppose the first thing I should ask is what we should do with you. So, what," he continued through a small smile, "shall we do with you?"

Harry frowned. He had planned to slowly gain Dumbledore's trust by helping him through the tumultuous school year ahead from within the ministry. He had supposed that he should attempt to become an auror, as that was where he was most skilled, or try to join Mr. Weasley in his department. Now that he apparently had Dumbledore's full trust already, he didn't want to stay away from the school. Besides the paperwork needed to forge a new identity would have likely cost a fair portion of the money he had tried to bring back with him. He tapped his fingers along the arms of his chair, worrying at his lip as he thought through this. "Well, sir," he began hesitantly, "I guess I could try for a job in the ministry, though I have no paperwork ready for a false identity. Or I could try to get a job in Hogsmeade or in Diagon Alley. I think the first thing I'll need to do is to find a way to permanently change my appearance. I can't have a disguise that will ripple away with a simple finite."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore then. The Headmaster had a mischievous grin on his face. "I believe that I can help with both of these problems. Let us start with your appearance and identity. Do you like your current look?"

Harry conjured a full length mirror in front of him. He had never been very vain, and had always thought the only part of himself he really considered attractive were his eyes. Looking at the face before him, he thought that he could easily get used to seeing it in the mirror every morning. It was certainly less rounded and more angular than his old face, with higher and sharper lines for his cheek bones. His hair hung straight and neat down to his shoulders, and his eyes looked even greener now in comparison. Nodding to himself, he looked back to Dumbledore and said, "I would for these to be my new features, especially since I would be sharing them with you. How would change them permanently?"

Dumbledore smiled broadly and said, "A true heir potion would make you my biological son and magical heir. It would also automatically give you the proper paperwork at the Ministry."

Harry felt floored. "You'd want to adopt me, sir?" he asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yes, if you would allow me to become your family, then yes."

Harry stared down at his hands, unsure what exactly he should say. Dumbledore had always been such a force in his life, and there were plenty of times when he had caught himself wishing for Dumbledore to be his actual grandfather. The fulfillment of those near forgotten dreams was too much for him to think through at the moment, so he merely nodded his head sharply and said, "When can we get the potion?"

Dumbledore smiled at him softly before leaning forward and putting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I can brew it myself in a little under an hour. You'll be able to take it tonight and by tomorrow you will look like you do now naturally. Now, there is a Dumbledore family tradition to have at least two middle names for all the boys. Would you like to pick your full name?"

This was all a bit much for Harry to take in at once, but he already knew what two of those middle names would be. Orion would be chosen because it was Sirius's middle name, and it had been Sirius's favorite constellation. Johnathan would be chosen because it was Remus's middle name, and the name of Remus's father, the man who had patched up his son after every transformation before Hogwarts and given him a sense of self-worth. The third would be hard. He chose Theodore for his little god-son, who would probably never be born in this time.

"I would like my full name to be Wulfric Orion Johnathan Theodore Ignotus Dumbledore." Harry had surprised himself when the last of his middle names rolled out, but it felt right, and he could tell that Dumbledore felt the same.

"Alright, I will slip that name into the potion before you drink it tonight, and that will be the name that will appear on all of the documents in the Ministry. Don't be alarmed if you start thinking of yourself as Wulfric instead of Harry soon. It is a normal reaction to the potion. Now that we have the matter of your identity and appearance settled, how about we discuss your employment prospects. There is a position open at Hogwarts, one which your history makes you eminently capable of filling." Dumbledore waited for Harry to guess which job he was thinking of.

Harry had no clue. His green eyes scoured the office around them for some clue, but all he noticed now that he hadn't noticed before was that a few of the shelves were dusty. "Caretaker?" He guessed aloud as he turned back to Dumbledore.

Chuckling, Albus answered, "While Argus may need the help, he is far too proud to receive it. And It might seem strange if a long lost grat-grandson of mine came all the way to Hogwarts to become an assistant caretaker. I was thinking that one of our electives, which until recently had a fine teacher, might not be offered at all this year. Unless, of course, we find a suitable teacher. How would you like to be the new Professor of Muggle Studies?"


End file.
